Cashmere & Molly
by languidbones
Summary: "Weasley. I'm not interested in a fling, either." "Good. Then we're in agreement." She's kinda odd, and he's kinda smitten. Rose/Scorpius.
1. Tower

_EDIT: Probably going to be a two-shot because I can't stop thinking about it, bloody hell... Also I know this story is kinda weird as hell but I laughed while writing it, maybe I'm the weird one?! Please review if you enjoyed this, and part two will come quicker :p_

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 **1\. Tower**

It was happening again.

Same scenario, different girl. Only this time they've spotted Rose, and now Scorpius Malfoy was probably zipping up his pants, and the girl—Madison Bard—was slipping off the large teak desk, her bum quite possibly imprinted into the notes Rose had carefully laid out earlier that evening. At least, that was what it all sounded like. Rose was thankfully obscured by the cabinet, her eyes shut to avoid seeing the whole thing.

"She's a voyeur," she heard Bard say decisively. "That has to be it. It's always the quiet ones."

"Hush, Maddie. I'll see you tomorrow."

Bard's voice lowered in a manner that Rose could only surmise as flirtatious. "Maybe we can get it on some place else?"

Scorpius' voice was firm. "Maybe tomorrow."

"What about Weas—"

"I'll handle her."

Huh. What did that even mean? Was Malfoy going to cast a memory wipe on her for witnessing his rendezvous with Madison Bard? Tell her off for being a sneak? Rose huffed, trying to figure out what their deal was. She left them to it, didn't she? It was the considerate thing to do, tucking herself away behind the large oak cabinet and letting them go about their business. She had diligently booked the viewing room in the Astronomy Tower, and therefore she had every right to be here, even if Scorpius Malfoy insisted on barging in on her study time with his conquests.

She bristled at Bard's assessment of her. _A voyeur, seriously?_

 _Clack, clack clack._ Rose could smell Bard's perfume as she brushed past her, a delicious whirl of grapefruit and magnolia. Even with her eyes shut, she could picture Madison's swaying gait as she went. Bard was the sort of knockout that even girls had to pay respects to. Hell, she wasn't surprised in the least that Bard would be up to no good with—

"Weasley," Scorpius said, and Rose remembered, just then, that he was still there. She could hear the slightest hint of amusement in his tone. "What are you doing?"

"Disappearing," said Rose, squeezing her eyes shut even tighter. She probably resembled a prune, but she didn't care. She would wait for Malfoy to leave, save him the embarrassment of knowing there was a witness to his debauchery—

But he didn't hurry past her the way Bard did. Instead, she heard the shuffle of his feet, the sudden warmth of his presence filling up the narrow space between her and the cabinet. He smelled warm and expensive, like Teddy—like he'd showered in soft pine and sandalwood. When he didn't say anything, Rose continued blindly, "I didn't see or hear a thing. You can pretend I'm invisible, or a ghost, or—"

"That's quite impossible," Scorpius said. There was a definite smile in his voice. "You can open your eyes now. She's gone."

"Will I see her scantily clad bum on top of the maps?"

"No."

"Or find a pair of lace panties hanging from a telescope?"

A chuckle. "No."

"Well, it's happened before. Maybe you should check on my behalf? I wouldn't put it past your girlfriends to leave you a parting gift."

"Weasley, look at me."

"Not unless you're decent."

"I'm decent. I swear I didn't take my pants off." He sounded like he was trying not to laugh. His knee brushed lightly against her thigh. "You're a stubborn one, aren't you?"

"That's me," Rose said under her breath.

Then she opened an eye to peer up at Scorpius Malfoy.

He was surveying her the exact same way he liked to study plants in their Herbology classes, his stormy grey gaze focused and unyielding, as though he was trying to dissect its properties. For a Slytherin, he was remarkably good at the subject. The two of them had shared several classes since their first year, but they had never paid attention to each other. Oh, she _knew_ who he was—her parents had warned her against him once upon a time—but he lived in a parallel universe, and had only skirted the very edges of her own reality. Before tonight, their paths had never crossed.

And she was perfectly fine with that.

So it felt just a bit _odd_ to have him so tangibly close, so very suddenly. A bit like two circles meeting in a venn diagram, finding common ground for the first time.

They weren't touching, but his presence felt like a static shock. Rose blinked furiously, clearing both her mind and her throat. She hoped she wasn't blushing.

"Malfoy," she said, straightening her back and lifting her her chin with as much dignity as she could muster. Not that it mattered; he had a good few inches on her.

"Weasley," he replied, a slow quirk pulling into the corner of his lips. "You haven't answered my question."

Rose stared up at him, nonplussed. Her tendency to observe chose this moment to betray her. She found that she wanted to study him for awhile. It was one thing to know what he looked like… it was quite another to _look_ at him. Scorpius was… well, he really was quite a lovely sight. He had a crown of silver blond hair, and humorous grey eyes that softened the astonishing symmetry of his profile. And he had a Seeker's build—tall, toned, and lean. With every passing second, Rose was beginning to discover, much to her horror, that even a girl of her cleverness could not be immune to such obvious sex appeal.

So much for not blushing.

Why was he so close to her again? Perhaps he had a girlfriend and didn't want her to go snitching on him?

Rose was thinking so hard about Scorpius Malfoy that she barely noticed him standing before her now.

"Weasley…"

"Huh?" she heard herself say, jolting out of her thoughts. How very eloquent she must sound.

"What are you doing?" Scorpius pressed. "Hiding behind the cabinet and watching me like some strange little pervert…"

Rose had no idea how to maneuvre past this moment. So she found herself saying, quite righteously, "Madison Bard. She's a nice girl."

There was a tug in the corner of Scorpius' lips.

"Truly a treasure for the Ravenclaw team. Really good arm, gets those Quaffles in like nobody's business. She won't shut up about you in Charms class—she sits behind me, you know. I like her better than the other one from a few weeks back."

A knot formed between Scorpius' eyebrows. "Wanda Parkinson?"

"That's the one. She's quite loud, isn't she?"

"Well—only when I bite her."

Rose tried not to flinch, keeping her voice even. "So she's the reason, then? You don't want me to tell Parkinson you've been fooling around with Bard? Because I assure you, Malfoy, I'm not interested in gossip—I find it quite tedious, in fact—so you can trust me to keep my mouth shut."

Scorpius' jaw slackened, ever so slightly. Rose cleared her throat and pushed on.

"Though if you're a decent bloke, you really should tell Parkinson yourself. She's rather mad about you, isn't she?"

Scorpius laughed just then, a deep, booming sound that startled Rose, but made her somewhat wibbly on the inside, because he truly was quite exquisite upclose. He rested a shoulder against the wall, leaving a slice of air between them in that very narrow corner. Rose bit down on her lower lip, blinking nervously. There was an awkward pause between them as Scorpius' laughter faded, the mirth in his eyes lingering as their gazes locked. Rose waited for him to say, _well quit stalking me then_ , or _you're a weirdo, Weasley_ , but the words never came. He merely looked at her, lower lip worried pink, his usually neatly combed hair now rumpled and soft from his fingers. Rose cringed inwardly at these observations.

God, she needed to get away. This situation—whatever it was—was entirely out of her comfort zone.

At length, she said, "Toodles."

"Where are you going?"

Rose glanced at her watch, trying to inch out of the corner the best she could without touching him. "Well, it is getting late, and…"

Without warning, Scorpius blocked her exit, his hand pressed against the cabinet beside Rose. She froze as he leaned forward, his breath tickling her ear… probably unintentionally.

"It _really_ doesn't bother you," he said, sounding somewhat distant despite his closeness, "what I'm doing here, with other girls?"

Well, of course it bothered her. It bothered her the way a person would be bothered when they were interrupted while in the middle of something they loved, like Nintendo or Wizard's Chess. Rose backed away slightly, not wanting to smash her nose into Scorpius' arm, and she wondered if it would be rude to simply duck under his arm and run away from him helter-skelter. This was Scorpius Malfoy, for goodness sake. They didn't _know_ each other… well, perhaps they did, but only as abstract concepts. They were from rival families, and until today they had never even spoken more than two words to each other. He didn't owe her an explanation any more than she owed him.

"Malfoy," she said, trying to keep the stiffness out of her voice, "I don't care what you do with other girls. It's not my business. But it does annoy me that you didn't think to check the logbooks to see who had booked the Viewing Room. I handpick my hours here for a reason—certain times of the night—because I'm hoping to catch the Zisis Showers."

"The what?"

"Zisis Showers," Rose repeated, folding her arms and frowning at him. "You know, the meteor storm that comes only once a century. I can't see it from my room, not even with my magicked binoculars. It's so far away that only magical folk can hope for glimpse of it through the Whipple. It's a sight that Muggles can only dream about."

Scorpius was looking at her with an unreadable expression that Rose chose to interpret as confusion.

So she gestured to the towering telescope by the window.

"The Whipple," she repeated. "Well, it's more accurately called the Whipglass, but its invention was inspired by Fred Whipple, the Muggle who discovered asteroids. Can you believe wizarding folk never cared enough for the skies to make any real astronomical breakthroughs? We owe a lot of what we know to Muggles. The Hubble telescope was pure Muggle ingenuity; the Whipple is a magical copy."

His gaze softened at her explanation, an odd sort of crinkle appearing in the corners of his eyes. Which Rose took as a sign to continue.

"So, honestly, I don't mind your wooing and mischief if you must conduct it in the Astronomy Tower, but I have to be here, obviously. Just until the end of October, when it becomes impossble to spot the Showers. Then you can have your privacy back."

"So you don't mind my wooing and mischief."

"Really. I don't. Now, if you'll excuse me—"

It happened impossibly quick. Scorpius's hand trailing down the length of her arm and stopping at her wrist. His touch on her bare skin made her tingle and her eyes blink, the nervous habit returning at full force. She glanced up at him, flummoxed.

"Do you flutter your eyelashes at every boy who touches you?" Scorpius asked, his voice low.

Her mouth was dry. God, why did he have to be so damn close? "I do that when I'm nervous."

"So I make you nervous?"

"Malfoy…"

"Rose," he breathed, then he had leaned in, trapping her between the rough brick wall and the cabinet, his cashmere jumper pressed against her Molly knit. Static shock. He had a gentle thumb to her cheek. "Answer me."

Rose squeezed her eyes shut, inching away from him as much as she could, the sharp brick jabbing her through the back of her jumper. "What are you doing?"

"Do I make you nervous?" he murmured. His tall frame had wrapped around her, his warm hands cradling her face.

"No," Rose managed, her arms braced against his chest to keep him from closing in again.

"Then why won't you look at me?"

"Stop it," she blurted, upset at herself for getting distracted by his beauty. The warmth of him against her felt all too good and her knickers were getting into a twist—the damp sort. None of this made sense, and it was mortifying. "I swear I'll scream."

Scorpius threw his head back and laughed, and the sight made something tighten in her chest. "Oh, I'll _make_ you scream."

"I just—look, I'm not like that—I'm not interested in one night stands or whatever you call it, I…"

The amusement faded from Scorpius' smile, and for a moment Rose decided she'd rather have a mischievous, teasing Scorpius in place of this one, with the strangely lit eyes and rather haunted expression. He studied her a long moment, fingers gripping on her arms, as though marking her under her jumper.

Then he said, "Weasley. I'm not interested in a fling, either."

"Good. Then we're in agreement." Rose shrugged out of his grip, still somewhat stunned. Of course he wasn't interested—he was just having his fun, that's all. Not that Rose harboured any hopes. She'd seen the kind of girls Scorpius Malfoy went for, the Madison Bards and Wanda Parkinsons of the world—gorgeous, svelte, womanly creatures. Without looking at him, Rose pushed past him and hurried over to the desk where Madison Bard's bare arse probably rested just fifteen minutes ago, grabbing her violated notes and stuffing them unceremoniously into her bookbag. Scorpius was at her heel, and as she turned around, he was there, blocking her from leaving.

"Rose." The way he said her name—in a low, roughened voice that felt all too intimate—made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

Then, before she could utter another word, he had stepped forward in one long stride, trapping her against the desk with his arms on either side of her, pinning her down with darkened eyes.

Rose felt her breath still in her throat. She could not understand, for the life of her, why he was looking at her this way… the good humour that made him so appealing had gone, leaving behind a predatory sort of hunger. It was all happening too fast—she had barely known Scorpius Malfoy fifteen minutes ago.

He lowered his head then, his breath warm against her ear as he whispered, " _Assuefacio_."

The term was familiar. Rose blinked, momentarily distracted. She turned her head sharply, their noses brushing as she met his tilted gaze. "I heard that somewhere before."

He didn't say anything more, only smiled at her in an oddly encouraging manner.

"It's… an Herbology term." Her mind was racing now. "Professor Longbottom must have mentioned this to me once…" Now she wished she had listened harder to Longbottom's long-winded one-way conversations about magical herbology, often peppered with the most random facts about the subject he so loved. Scorpius continued to watch her carefully, looking almost as though he was challenging her. Rose stared blankly back at him, yet not really seeing him—her brain was clicking, indexing, searching for meaning.

Seconds turned into a full minute. By now, Rose had completely forgotten she was in Scorpius' arms, so lost she was in her head. Finally, she caved in to her curiosity and took the bait. "Tell me more."

"What do I get in return?"

"The enlightenment of a fellow student," Rose said seriously, and he snorted good-naturedly.

"Do better, Rose."

Again, he used her name like he owned it on his tongue… as though he had said it a thousand times before without her knowledge. She worried her lower lip then, genuinely puzzled. She felt caught in a labyrinth somehow, having no idea where the riddle began.

Finally, with great reluctance, she said, "Well… next time I find you up here with a girl, I promise not to interrupt."

The answer seemed to please Scorpius, and he relented. "It's the theory of magical acclimatisation."

Fascinating. Without realising, Rose had relaxed against the desk, her ears perked as though she was taking notes in class. She hardly noticed as Scorpius inched forward, his legs now on either side of hers.

"For centuries, Herbologists and Botanists have studied the effects of magical presence around plants," he continued in a low tone. "Most wizards believe that magical botany has to be born, but some others think they are nurtured… acclimatised, if you will. _Assuefacio_ assumes that plants are a reflection of its environment, and are receptive to the energies that surround it. Including magic."

"So the more exposed a plant is to magic, the more magical it becomes?"

"Well, at the very least, it begins to respond to that influence, and, in time, will accept and harness that energy for itself." Scorpius flashed her a sideways smile. "In short, when it comes to plants… exposure brings reception."

His elegant response impressed her. "Ten points to Slytherin, Mr Malfoy."

Scorpius lifted a hand, his fingers reaching into the feathery edge of her nape. Rose's eyes widened, but Scorpius didn't flinch. "Stay still," he said.

"Why?"

"I don't want you to be nervous around me." His eyes met hers then, piercing grey on cornflower blue, and suddenly Rose was once again aware of how close he was to her, the strength of his body placing an enticing pressure against the softness of her own.

"What's this?" she found herself asking.

Yet another beguiling smile. "And what do I get for answering that?"

Rose faltered, again finding herself trapped in more ways than one. "You do your house proud."

"I try my best." His fingers had curled into her hair now, a gentle fistful of red against her neck. "Rose… I don't come here to make out with other girls."

Rose couldn't resist a wry smile. "No, you come to give me Herbology lessons."

"That's right." His mouth was now a whisper from hers, his words sounding almost like a sigh. "I was waiting for you."

The way he said it, so dream-like and wistful, made her insides pool with an unexplainable warmth. This was Scorpius Malfoy… and he was kissing her. And not at all in the scandalous way she'd pictured him to have kissed girls like Madison or Wanda, but more like he was persuading her somehow… with slow, sipping kisses, a gentle palm cradling her cheek as he coaxed his way deeper, his lips parting hers so he could revel in the damp heat of her mouth.

She was catching fire everywhere, one of his thighs shifting to rest firmly between her legs, providing an artful pressure that made her squirm and tremble slightly. She heard herself whimper in protest, but Scorpius only tugged her closer, making slow, gentle demands of her tongue as his arms caged her to his tall frame, lifting her ever so slightly to her tip-toes.

"No interrupting," he whispered between kisses, before capturing her mouth with his again.

And the more he kissed her, the less she was able to pull away. _Assuefacio_ , she realised dimly. The theory of acclimatisation… Against her better judgment, her own fingers were tracing up his muscular back, her resistance peeling away to leave her slack in his arms. The quaking nerves of being so close to him had long been replaced by an insistent clutch of desire in her very core.

Rose was no prude, but she had never quite been kissed into a spell like this one.

She didn't open her eyes as he pressed open-mouthed kisses against her neck, a firm hand tilting her head back to his. She finally opened her eyes then, feeling drowsy in the most pleasant way… He looked just as stunned as she felt, his pale skin flushed from need, grey eyes ashened as his heated gaze raked over her face.

"You're so fucking gorgeous," he said softly.

Rose swallowed, unsure of how to reply as her face heated up once more. "When I came up here to see stars," she said, after a moment, "I didn't expect this."

His eyes danced. "You saw stars, then?"

"Oh, a whole lot of them..." Rose glanced over at the telescopes. "And I didn't even need the Whipple."

Her words seemed to infuse a delightful blush into Scorpius' cheeks. Perhaps, Rose thought, she wouldn't mind studying this Scorpius Malfoy fellow a little longer. She had already decided that this boyishly shy smile he had on was the prettiest one yet.

"I mean it, you know," Scorpius said, his eyes fixed on hers. "I'm not interested in a fling. And if you don't mind my wooing and mischief, you should stop hiding behind cabinets… and go out with me."

"What do I get in return?"

His breath hitched. "You learn fast."

Rose shrugged, gazing back at him with a minute smile. "…It helps to have a good tutor."

"Bloody hell. I have to have you." Scorpius' kisses upon her jawline were breathless with need. "Rose. Go out with me. Please."

"Okay," Rose said, after a moment's consideration. "When do we start?"

Scorpius replied her with a playful grin… and a heated kiss.


	2. Closet

_So, even though I started this as a oneshot and then decided for it to be a double-shot, I decided that I could actually just continue this whenever the mood hits me, because it's turning out to be a series of random moments between Scorpius and Rose. I really enjoy this version of Scorpius and Rose, too, and it could be fun to cover more of their… uh, adventures. Do let me know if you enjoyed this – would make my day. Thank you so much for the reviews so far!_

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 **2\. Closet**

Scorpius Malfoy was in a broom closet, which wasn't exactly an unusual occurrence. Except today he wasn't there for the usual reason.

Useful things, broom closets. So often it so graciously facilitated the pleasures of hormone-induced debauchery, including—and not limited to—the careless unbuttoning of blouses or the feeling up of a shapely bum. And Scorpius had felt up his share of shapely bums. Broom closets fairly brought out the gropey side of him.

It was dark and cramped spot. A natural habitat for sexual deviants like himself.

But, curiously enough, Scorpius wasn't there today to grope a girl. He was in the broom closet to _get away_ from a girl, which wasn't very much like him at all. At the moment, he had his hands very much to himself, his own breaths heavy in the muffled silence of the closet. The seconds ticked, each moment pendulous with foreboding.

If one didn't know better, they would say Scorpius Malfoy was _hiding_ from something.

Then, without warning, the door of broom closet swung open. The overwhelming afternoon light spilled in, blinding Scorpius ever so briefly.

And like a vision, there she was.

Rose Weasley.

Not for the first time, Scorpius felt mouth dry up at the sight of her. She didn't look any different than she always did.

Which was to say, she looked devastating.

But even more compelling was the oddly inquisitive expression in her cornflower blue eyes. She didn't _seem_ remotely upset, but that was just another one of her special qualities. Rose had a sweet, soft-faced appeal, but she had never been particularly expressive. And Scorpius loved that about her. It had become a game for him, to coax an adorable little quirk into her lips… one that would lead to a smile that lit up her entire face.

How dreamy she was when she smiled.

The door shut firmly behind her, startling him back to reality. Rose turned to face Scorpius in the dim closet, the flickering light bulb harshly illuminating her delicate features. She looked breathless and windswept… lips parted and somewhat winded, her eyes unnaturally bright. Almost instantly, Scorpius longed to run his fingers through her unruly red hair, have her come apart even further under his own hands. When Rose lifted her gaze to meet his, he felt his heart sink to his knees.

Her loveliness was simply unfair.

The closet air was stagnant and musky between them. This was usually cue for Scorpius to launch into some sort of lewd adventure—but this was Rose, and he didn't want to be near her at all. He _couldn't_ be near her. Even if she was just there, more desirable than anything he'd ever known… and that included Quidditch Cups, freshly polished broomsticks, and ten naked Madison Bards.

Hell, the three best months of his entire life was staring back at him. Close enough to kiss. Perfectly fit to fuck.

And he couldn't bring himself to touch her.

In this close proximity, he could detect the minute signs of distress in her usually cool countenance. There was an imperceptible knot between her eyebrows, and her nervous blinking had returned. In the past three months, Scorpius had kissed his way across the dainty slopes and planes of that little heartshaped face... And it was alarming to him how, even in the absence of her lovely smile, he found her utterly delectable.

"So it really is me," Rose was saying, the words barely registering with Scorpius. "You're avoiding me, then. So this is what it's like."

"What?" Frankly, he was still too distracted by her prettiness to comprehend anything she saying. He hadn't come face-to-face with Rose for days, and this was all too much, too quickly.

"I'm one of them now, aren't I? One of those silly fools you've cast aside, pining hopelessly after you—"

"You're pining after me?" he asked stupidly.

There was a flash of resignation in Rose's clear eyes. "Everything they said was true. You're a playboy."

"A—wait, what?"

"A playboy." Rose chewed miserably on her lower lip as she surveyed him, as though he was an unenlightened, pitiful creature rather than the smitten pervert she'd been sharing Butterbeers with the past three months. "A womanising… skirt-chasing… _philanderer._ "

The conversation was moving too fast. "Philanderer? Now hold on just a—"

"You were running from me! I saw you throw yourself in here the moment you saw me coming your way. Don't even deny it."

"Look, I wasn't avoiding you." It was a weak excuse, but it wasn't exactly untrue. "I—I just need a breather."

"In a broom closet?" she said incredulously.

"Rose," he said forcefully. Just her name on his tongue gave him a jolt of pleasure… even more so when a slow, charming blush filled her cheeks.

"Is my time up, Scorpius?" she asked in a small voice. "Because I won't make a scene. I suppose I just…" She trailed off. The blush was now edging into the slant of her cheekbones, and she seemed to steel herself, finishing her train of thought in a rush. "I suppose it's best to end this on good terms. With a goodbye kiss."

Scorpius stared at her in disbelief. "…A goodbye kiss."

"Yes." Rose lifted her chin defiantly, folding her arms in front of her in that endearing stance she liked to take whenever they debated something, as though it gave her more power in an argument. "Then we can both move on properly. You to a girl like Madison Bard, and I—"

Oh, hell. _This_ he had to hear. "Who would you move on to, pray tell?"

"Well," she said indignantly, her blush deepening. "Oliver Watts, most likely."

Oliver Watts. Oliver _fucking_ Watts. The friendly, tawny-haired Gryffindor Keeper who shared Rose's unbridled passion for Astronomy… and who was also now officially dead in Scorpius' eyes. His gaze hardened, and he felt an irritated lurch in the pit of his stomach at the unwavering confidence in Rose's declaration. "Why," he said through clenched teeth, "the _hell_ would you move on to Watts, of all people?"

"I think he likes me." Her tone was maddeningly casual.

"Oh, _does_ he now?"

"He tried to take a whiff of my hair the other day." Rose tilted her head at the memory. "I wanted to ask you, by the way. Is that something boys do, when they fancy a girl? Sniff her hair?"

Scorpius fought to keep his voice neutral. "Boys want to do a lot more to girls they fancy."

She shrugged. "So maybe I'll let him do more than sniff my hair."

More than sniff— _Merlin_. Scorpius couldn't help his stare from boring into Rose's innocently freckled face. "Why do you like the tosser, then?"

"He's not a tosser, he's my friend—"

"Why do you like the tosser?" he repeated.

"Well." Rose straightened slightly, as though answering a question in class. "He's nice, for one."

"Nice." He could barely conceal his disdain.

"Yes. He's a complete gentleman. Unlike some people, he'd never jump me in between classes."

"Probably won't talk dirty to you during Charms."

Rose returned his gaze without flinching. "Or give me a hickey in the library."

Scorpius couldn't resist a rakish grin at the reminder. "He'd never feel you up under your jumper."

There was a twinkle in her eye now. "And he'll know how to finish a game of Wizard's Chess."

"A much healthier pursuit than trying to take your clothes off."

"I'm sure he won't be grabbing my bum, either."

"He won't ever kiss you under a shower of stars."

"There will be other meteor showers."

"Not one like ours. It comes only once a century, remember?"

That he had mentioned this particular astronomical fact about the Zisis Showers seemed to surprise Rose. She made a soft sound between a laugh and a gasp, an affectionate fondness stealing into her the cornflower blue crinkle of her eyes.

Their gazes locked. For a brief moment Scorpius felt rather like a drowning man, swallowed up hopelessly by a vicious tide... he felt completely arrested by her. In turn, all he wanted was to push Rose up against the wall and stake his claim on her. His thoughts were running wild—a punishing kiss, a telling love bite… he needed something, anything, to ward every other boy off of her, to make her his alone. The seething jealousy in his gut was further enflamed by the sudden recollection of Rose concentrating on the chess board one autumn evening, the tip of a pale shoulder coming free from her knitted jumper. The sight had enamoured him to no end... Scorpius had lost the game the moment he reached out for her, upsetting the chess board so he could draw her close across the table and run his hungry mouth across her elegant collarbone.

Bloody hell. He was going mad. Scorpius' breaths were coming out in a disjointed rhythm now, and his fingers were trembling from the effort not to touch her… the mere inches that separated them now as torturous to him as the years of pathetic longing that preceded their first kiss.

Unexpectedly, Rose said softly, "Do I make you nervous, Scorpius?"

He didn't move—he couldn't. So he merely stayed still, not unlike a helpless first-year at a Quidditch tryout about to deal with a rogue Bludger, waiting for the inevitable to crash into him. Rose moved forward, taking little steps, until the warmth of her body gradually melded with his.

"Because sometimes I think I do," she continued, so casually she might as well have been talking about the weather. "When I get nervous, I blink… but when you're nervous, you don't. At all."

"Nonsense."

"Nonsense, is it?" Rose was smiling now. "Yet you're staring at me like a deer in headlights… ah, that's no good… it's a Muggle phrase." She looked thoughtfully past him, then—"Like you've seen a Basilisk."

Despite himself, Scorpius huffed. "I am _not_ Petrified."

"You absolutely are. I could go on." There was an irresistible mischief in her voice now. "You look like a Werewolf catching sight of a moon. A Seeker who swallowed a Snitch. A Dementor in the face of a Pa—"

Rose never got to finish, because Scorpius had closed the minute distance between them and kissed her. She stumbled backwards, an adorable squeak in her throat as he wrapped his fingers at the back of her head, pressing her up against the dusty closet wall. She clutched on to him, and he shuddered as his hardness sought relief against the pliant softness of her. Desperate for more contact, he tilted his head, deepening their kiss so he could plunder the heated sweetness of her mouth.

"Rose…" He mumbled between kisses, unable to resist working up the fuzzy surface of her jumper, "if you go out with Watts, I'll kill him."

"Oh," she sighed, as a hot palm caressed the bare skin of her back. "That would be inconvenient."

"You'll have to help me move the body."

"Well then," she said, trembling as he dragged his mouth across her jawline, leaving a trail of breathless kisses under her ear, "We'll just have to make sure Oliver doesn't get the wrong idea."

Her arms had circled around his neck, and he found her mouth once more, running a teasing tongue along hers as she opened up to him, the sensually damp warmth of her kiss sending a shiver of lust through him. Merlin, he had needed this for days… Rose uttered a muffled whimper as his hand went under her skirt, squeezing gently at her bum. Her very shapely bum. Scorpius smirked into the kiss, and Rose tugged insistently at his blond hair… her wordless protests going ignored as he forced her hips against his, his fingers slipping slyly beneath her cotton knickers to caress the curves there.

"I'm a nice guy too, you know," he whispered huskily, nipping hotly at her ear. "But you make me want to do very, very bad things."

"You do this to every girl you're with."

"But yours is the only bum I want for myself."

Rose blinked back at him, a tender blush filling her cheeks once more. Their noses brushed, breaths hot against each others' mouths. Scorpius looked at her, into the lovely blue depths of her eyes, and felt a slow, urgent ache growing beneath his heaving chest.

"This is mine, too." He lowered his head, nuzzling fiercely at the sweet curve between her neck and shoulder. He ran his fingers through her red locks, curling them between the digits. "And this… Watts can't fucking have it. Nobody can."

"Scorpius," Rose murmured, as he leaned in and kissed the bow of her lower lip. "Why were you hiding from me?"

Merlin, that question again. How could he explain the effect she had on him without sounding like a mad man? How could he explain that he had been chronically infatuated with her… and that dating her was only making him worse?

He wanted her to be his. Unequivocally.

Instead, Scorpius managed a mirthless chuckle, wrapping his arms around her and engulfing her small frame against him. He had spent days avoiding her, trying to hold back from needing her too much… but now that she was in his arms, he was lost again. His feelings for her were entirely too reckless to be contained.

It was almost frightening to him, how consumed he was by just the presence of her.

"You terrify me, Rose," he admitted thickly, his breaths ragged against her slight shoulder. "I don't think you understand how mad I am about you."

"I think I do." Her familiar stubbornness made him smile. Rose drew away slightly from his hold, her lush lashes tickling gently against his cheek. "Are you hiding because you love me?"

The way she said it, as though she was reciting some astronomical fact, drew a breathless laugh from Scorpius. Rose bit back a smile, her hands coming up to cradle his face. He turned his head slightly, stealing a kiss from her wrist. His heart was skittering under his swollen lungs, so loudly that he was sure it would reveal everything before he said it himself.

"Do you mind?" he whispered.

Rose didn't answer for a long moment. Scorpius felt her fingers curl gently against his cheeks, and then there was the lightest of kisses against the corner of his mouth.

"Just the hiding part," she said at last. Her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. She was studying him, Scorpius realised. She hesitated for a moment, then—"Did you enjoy the Zisis Showers?"

"Yes." Scorpius thumbed affectionately at her freckled cheek, trying to understand where her question was headed. "Didn't you?"

"I don't know." She sounded faintly confused, as though she was trying to solve a riddle he had no part in. "I was looking at you."

The earth seemed to stop spinning on its axis, right then and there.

She had been looking at him... during a meteor storm that only happened once a century.

Scorpius stilled, his breath caught in his throat at the implication of her words. Rose didn't seem to understand it herself. Instead, she was staring at him with an oddly faraway expression, as though she found him as fascinating as the constellations themselves. There was something fetching about the way her eyes were fixed on him, the soft depths filled some strange mixture of curiosity and fondness that made her sweet, kiss-flushed face even more endearing to him.

 _Maybe_ , Scorpius thought, caught between euphoria and disbelief, _maybe…_

"You're going to fall in love with me," he said slowly, suddenly filled with a frightening certainty.

"What?" Rose said, blinking out of her daydream. She didn't seem to have heard him. But Scorpius had already tugged her to him, his mouth capturing hers in a hungry, searing kiss. Rose gasped as he worked off her jumper, fingers deftly moving to unbutton the top of her blouse. "What are you doing?" she asked dazedly, as he leaned in to ravish her collarbones.

Scorpius lifted his head, biting gently into her plush lower lip as his heavy-lidded gaze met hers.

"Persuading you, of course," he whispered, loosening his tie with a deliberation that made her knees weak. And then they were no longer talking.


End file.
